


A Star and Three Quarters

by aHostileRainbow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Crossover, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aHostileRainbow/pseuds/aHostileRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought it was rather odd, to be tired for sleeping, but it was a pleasantly normal 'odd' for Harry – or it was, until a few hours turned into a few centuries. For Abby Ebon. No pairings yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Harry was always a little tired after waking up from a long nap. He thought it was rather odd, to be tired for sleeping, but it was a pleasantly normal 'odd' for him – or it was, until a few hours turned into a few centuries.

Somehow, he just knew this was Hermione's fault.

* * *

Harry Potter was a quiet, hardly mentioned historical figure from the twentieth century – or so Jim discovered after an afternoon of intense research at the tiny town library. He'd gotten several odd looks for carting the heavy old tomes about, but he figured the librarians had to adjust to having a child prodigy present eventually. Then again, James Tiberius Kirk was prodigious even for a prodigy. He chalked that up to Frank, personally, not that he would ever say so.

Frank Durdson had been his stepfather from age six to age ten and it marked the most miserable four years of his life. His mother had been off-planet a lot and even though he knew she loved him and wouldn't have stood for the way Frank treated him or Sam when she was gone, Jim never spoke up. His mother loved space, anyone could see it on her face when she drove by the yards where the ships were being built, or when she rode in a shuttle; her eyes never left the stars. Jim refused to be the one who nailed her feet to the ground, even if Frank liked taking nails to him.

In the end, she discovered it all on her own.

A week before Jim's tenth birthday, his big brother Sam had run out and in a fit of despair and terrible understanding Jim stole Frank's prize car and drove it off a cliff. Jim almost followed the car down, but he never spoke of that.

Now, at twelve, Jim had had two years of quiet peace with his mother. When the police contacted her about the car incident, she'd come running home and straight into Frank taking every sharp-edged object at hand to Jim. Her temper was legend in their town now and Frank was quietly locked up in a prison in Colorado within the month. Afterwards, Winona had put her foot down, refusing to take any off-planet assignments until Jim was of age. So the two of them made the best of things, and six months in Sam had shown up for a visit and they were a family again, for a little while.

Otherwise, those two years were serene as Winona could make them. Jim, free to put his all into school once more, was quickly identified as a prodigy and his mother did everything she could to make sure he was happy and challenged, even letting him help her with some of the coding for the big ship being built in the yards – the  _Enterprise_. Sam didn't visit again, but he called when he was accepted to a California university and when he started dating a girl he called 'the One'. Jim moved up two grades in a week and still felt older than his classmates most days; he was happy but he never became close to any of his peers and he blamed the forced maturity from Frank's time for that.

Everything went surprisingly smoothly, until one day, Jim made a friend.


	2. Youth

Jim's friend was a boy who looked about sixteen but said he was twenty-seven. He said his name was Harry Potter.

Jim first met Harry when he was wandering around the yards one day while his mother worked with the mechanics, in a section she deemed too dangerous for him to help with. Bored, he'd wandered off to explore a little more of the vaguely familiar territory. He turned a corner at one hallway and suddenly he was outside by the fences that surrounded the yard, and sitting, leaning against the fence was a pale, black-haired boy with the brightest green eyes Jim had ever seen.

Jim froze at first, but Harry smiled at him like he was the sun rising and Jim cautiously smiled back, walking closer and crouching down to be on eye-level. Cocking his head when the stranger didn't speak, Jim finally broke the staring contest.

"Who are you?" Harry laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard and said, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Jim sat back on his heels and watched Harry a little uncertainly. Then he shrugged and plopped down across from him. His mother kept telling him to live a little.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jim Kirk." Harry smiled then, approving and rather mischievous, just like Sam had always looked at him when he did something to make him proud.

"I know who you are, James Kirk. I'm told we're going to be great friends."

Jim had laughed then and replied, "I'd like a friend," as though he were just playing along, but in later years he thought that sounded funnily like prophecy.

* * *

Jim met Harry again, with every trip to work with his mother on the _Enterprise_. For three months they spoke of little substantial, Jim trying to get another laugh from the often quiet Harry and Harry just trying to remind Jim how to have fun, with every game and joke he remembered.

Then it was Jim's birthday and his mother had thrown him a little party, just the two of them, and baked him a cake; but Jim couldn't bear to watch her try and smile when she wanted to cry. He thanked her for the gifts and the cake and then said he was going for a walk.

She hadn't protested as much as she might have and Jim just smiled gently, leaving her alone to grieve and making his way to visit his only friend.

At the yards, Jim slipped under the fences where they'd been torn up in a back corner and Harry stood not five feet away, as though he had been waiting just for Jim. His smile was as bright as the first time he saw Jim and Jim couldn't help smiling back. Walking quietly together, they settled in their usual spot, sitting against the fence in a deserted clearing near the _Enterprise_ 's cargo bay. Only then did Harry speak, "I have a gift for you, Jim."

Jim twisted quickly to stare wide-eyed at Harry – he'd never had a present from anyone but Sam or his mother. Harry grinned and cupped his hands together. From the seams of his palms, a tiny vial appeared filled with what looked like bottled sunlight. As Jim watched, Harry smiled a little sadly down at the bottle and spoke absently to Jim, "This is called Felix Felicis. It brings luck. It is the last of its kind…rather like me." Jim had known something was strange about Harry from the start and so let the comment pass when Harry shook himself out of whatever memories had him looking so sad and lost.

"You can't touch it or ingest it, but I can share a little of that luck with you." Green eyes met blue and then fell closed as Harry downed the liquid luck in one shot. Leaning forward, he murmured, "Hold still," and Jim shut his eyes as warm breath like a summer breeze washed over him and the subtle pressure of lips on his forehead sent a _zing_  of lightning down every nerve ending.

He felt Harry lean back after a moment as the warmth settled like a blanket on his bones. For a moment, before he opened his eyes, it almost felt like Jim _saw_  Harry, his outline in something like light but he was bigger – he was massive, his silhouette stretching to encompass the whole yard it seemed.

Awestruck, Jim's eyes snapped open wide and for a moment, haloed in light and a spirit so much greater than its body, Harry smiled and looked like an angel – like the little, faceless winged statuette Jim's mother kept on her nightstand.

* * *

It was Harry's first gift to him, but not his last. Harry's later gifts, though, were stories. Jim was mature enough to understand they were the best gifts he could ever receive and clever enough to see why they were likely Harry's only options. Harry certainly put on a decent show of humanity, but even before what Jim had mentally dubbed The Angel Incident he knew Harry was _different_. Harry was always very cautious not to touch him except for brief moments which seemed to require all of his concentration. But more than that, Harry always seemed, well, hazy around the edges was the best way Jim could think to describe it; like Harry was, not unreal, but too real.

Jim heard Harry's first story a month after his birthday, as his mother set up the replicators for _Enterprise_. The two of them sat, quietly chuckling, as Harry spoke of a castle called Hogwarts, a school of magic, and about four boys who called themselves the Marauders. He detailed what he called their best prank ever, where they spelled each of the four houses to walk backwards for the day, or only speak French, or cartwheel up and down the moving stairs, or even spend the day as various rodents, ranging from ferrets to rabbits. By the end, the both of them were giggling hysterically.

When they calmed down, Jim told Harry about his week as he did each time they met; Harry had become a sort of combination between the older brother who left him, the journal he would never keep, and the father he'd always missed. Jim told him about how disconnected he felt from his classmates and the children his age, about how guilty he sometimes felt when he could tell his resemblance to his father made his mother sad. He even told him about Frank a few times and rather than pushing them apart, as it had with he and Sam, the abuse only seemed to bind the two of them closer.

Harry even told Jim once about an aunt and uncle called the Dursleys and a little boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs. But most of Harry's stories were like the one about the Marauders – meant to make Jim laugh, to give him a glimpse into a world of magic and playfulness and family that's made as much as it's born. Harry taught Jim to hope.

The day Jim turned thirteen, the _Enterprise_  was halfway to completion and Jim's mother's part in its construction was at an end. With few options, she took her first off-planet job in three years.

* * *

Jim had promised to behave and keep in touch with Winona for the month she would be gone. In return, she'd finally agreed to let him visit his aunt and uncle off-planet, on a new colony called Tarsus IV. The colony was beautiful and the day before both he and his mother left Earth, Jim said his goodbyes to Harry, who kissed his forehead and wished him well.

His aunt and uncle were there to meet him when Jim landed on Tarsus and he was immediately adopted into their sizeable family – four boys, five girls, his aunt, Bree, and his uncle, Tammor, a Romulan defector. It was the greatest month of Jim's life, so even when his mother called in explaining that she needed another month to finish up the job, he couldn't be too unhappy.

Except that two days after her call, everyone started getting hungry. Jim mentioned the problem with the crops to his mother once, on the fourth day, but didn't want to worry her too much so he made light of it. By the time a week had passed, he didn't have the energy to call her even if he had had access to a com unit – and by then, nobody could get word off the planet.

By the time three weeks came around, Jim could remember nothing except his mother was coming and Harry was waiting for him. His cousins were all dead except for the youngest two: Kevin and Dea, who had always received the largest share of any rations they could scrounge up. When Governor Kodos' men had shown up in week two with guns and a list, Aunt Bree and Uncle Tammor had herded their children and Jim out a back window and into the woods, where they hid.

In the end, Jim's mother came at the head of the Starfleet ships and she found the children first.

Kevin and Dea stayed with her on Earth while the three of them recovered, then Aunt Bree's mother took custody of them. Jim didn't say a single word until the first day he was released from the hospital and snuck out to the yards.

"Harry," Jim breathed the name into the cool night air, like a prayer that was answered. Harry materialized before him, not even bothering with the human charade. He simply opened his arms to Jim, who came running and cried until he could hardly breathe. Jim could never say, later, how he knew Harry would understand all too well, but he was glad he was right.

When Harry sat and cradled him to his chest, Jim shut his eyes and tried to sync his breathing to the simulated heartbeat. Harry began speaking soon after, softly telling of a boy and his two best friends and how they ran for a whole year, hunted and hunting. He whispered to Jim of desperation and pride and grief and, "So proud of you, kiddo. I'm so proud of you, Jim, you were so brave."

And Harry is the only one, Jim thought, who could say that to me. Who can talk about this disaster and speak to me of pride and bravery and I can accept it. Harry understands.

Harry murmured into Jim's hair then, "Yeah, I do, kid. And I'd give anything so you didn't, but not even luck can make this better." Jim only sighed, a strange sort of contentment filling him up, warming him like a forehead kiss and his mother's fierce love.

* * *

Jim was still quiet for his fourteenth birthday. His mother had come to respect his reticence and restrained her natural exuberance to offer him a present and a tight hug. After a few bites of cake, she let him wander out into the cornfields as he had done every free moment since he came home. The one time she asked, he tried to explain, "It's comforting to see the life out there. To watch the corn growing and the sun rise." She teased him for a poet and let him go with a teary smile.

When he wasn't in the cornfields, Jim kept the nightmares at bay by pushing himself academically. He had completed high school not long after returning and started working on the first of his degrees, this one for Bioengineering. Harry smiled when he heard and called Jim 'a regular Hermione'.

Two years passed and Jim's mother refused any off-planet work once more, deciding to go back to school with her son so she would have an excuse to be with him and help where she could with the _Enterprise._ Mother and son received their Master's in Xenotechnological Studies and Mechanical Engineering, respectively, on the same day.

To celebrate, Jim's mother brought home a bottle of the best Romulan ale she could find and let Jim have his first sips of alcohol. When he snuck out later that night, still a little tipsy, Harry congratulated him with a laugh and what he called a Hangover Potion – once more swallowed and shared with a kiss to the forehead. Then Harry sat them down as the potion did its work and told Jim the story of his late graduation from Hogwarts and the truly remarkable party thrown by the surviving eighth years.

* * *

A month later, Jim turned sixteen and finally stopped dreaming about starving. At his mother and Harry's insistence, he tried to get involved with some of the town children his age and let them show him what fun should be. While wary of him at first, Jim soon adapted and charmed his peers into accepting him. At their behest, he took time to try every sort of fun known to teenage man, from the relatively harmless highs to the less than kosher parties.

On his seventeenth birthday, Jim lost his virginity to a cheerleader two years older than him. He had helped her pass her science class and apparently she was both grateful and smitten. Recounting the evening to a very amused Harry later, Jim blushed every shade of red they could think of a name for. Finally taking pity on him, Harry shared his own awkward sex stories and those of his shameless roommates until Jim was laughing himself blue in the face.

Both Harry and Winona were privately quite satisfied with Jim's newfound enjoyment of life, even if some of his adventures made them cringe. Another year passed in much the same manner, although Jim's experimentation eventually calmed and he took time to earn a second Bachelor's, this time in Computer Mechanics.

For his eighteenth birthday, Jim left Iowa.

* * *

For four years, Jim traveled. He said his goodbyes to Harry and his mother, bought a motorcycle, and rode off into the cornfields. Deciding to work backwards, Jim picked up a passport and jumped an international shuttle, hitchhiking across Southeast Asia and Russia. Halfway through his second year, he made his way into Europe by the Middle East and started riding through old forests and around the ruins of castles he had heard stories about since he was small.

Once he even thought he saw a castle that looked like Hogwarts, out of the corner of his eye. He fell in love with Scotland and ended up spending three months there, searching out the hidden enclaves he felt he knew like his own Iowa – but of course, he eventually moved on. When he came back to the Americas after passing through Africa, he started at Cape Horn and worked his way up. All along the way, Jim searched for the little magics that existed wherever he traveled.

He stayed at a monastery in Tibet for ten days, visited a little Camaroonian modern-day witch doctor, even stayed with a Honduran shaman for a month. Life was hardly easy or smooth in his travels but Jim had always been adaptable and stubborn as a mule.

The only time he faltered was on his ride up through Mexico, when he came across tiny starving towns held in fear by the cartels which had only grown in power over the centuries. It broke his heart, but more, it infuriated him – that monsters so like Kodos or Frank could thrive even on his own Earth, even so close to home. By the time he made it back to the Midwest, Jim was still angry. The oceans on either coast had failed to soothe his helpless rage and he went running for his safe haven of old.

Along the way, Jim discovered other paths to relief. He came to appreciate the release of a good bar fight or some simple casual sex. Soon it felt like he was simply punching and sleeping his way home.

When he at last arrived in Iowa, Jim had lost all track of the wisdom he had sought across the Earth and found he was too ashamed to return to his mother or to Harry as he was. But the money he had saved and the money he had earned eventually ran out and Jim discovered he had to stop running.

* * *

Riding into Riverside was an odd experience for Jim. He'd been gone for four years and he'd been a different person it seemed for every one of them. Only absently steering, Jim was surprised when he realized he had come to a stop before the shipyards rather than home.

He sighed and rested his head on his bike's handle bars for a moment before gathering himself and hopping the fence. Immediately, Harry was there. Raising his eyes to the black sky and the stars, Jim couldn't look him in the eyes, too frightened of seeing disappointment or shame where he had only ever seen love and pride. But faster than Jim could even doubt, faster than anything alive, Harry was close enough to touch and he did. Gently pressing a kiss to Jim's exposed throat and then to his forehead when Jim jerked his head down, Harry whispered joyously to him, "Welcome home, Jim. I am so proud of you, kid."

Jim felt his familiar cocky grin break across his face and Harry laughed, pulling him in for a tight hug. When he stepped back, Harry smiled up at Jim, who now stood nearly a foot taller than him. Harry looked him over carefully, taking in the dark circles and the worried lines across his face. Shaking his head, he motioned Jim to follow him to their old, private clearing near the back of the yards.

"You need to sleep, Jim." Jim opened his mouth to protest on instinct and shut it when Harry eyed him. He didn't even blink an eye when an old-fashioned four poster bed had appeared in the deserted clearing, just sighed and collapsed on the soft sheets, grunting as Harry wrestled his shoes off and tucked him in. For a moment, it felt like a blanket of grace washed over him and Jim smiled with his eyes closed and Harry's eyes on him.

"Sleep, Jim. I will watch over you."

* * *

Harry had woken him early and ordered Jim home to his mother. Laughing as Harry rolled his eyes at Jim's puppy dog pout, he'd done as ordered and been, literally, welcomed with open arms. His mother had actually refused to let him out of her sight the entire day. Half of the time she clutched him close and the rest she spent cooking his favorites and showing him all the little renovations she'd done on the house. She eventually told him that she started taking off-planet work after he left, and seemed relieved when he congratulated her.

Jim had eyed her small show of concern and then stepped up to hug her for the umpteenth time that day, smiling when her head rested against his shoulder and she grumbled about silly boys and their growth spurts.

"Mom, I know you love me even if you're not on Earth," he pulled back just enough to grin at her, "I just want you to be happy and you're never as happy as when you're in space. Please don't ever let me stop you from flying."

Winona smiled tearfully up at him and then stepped back and turned for the kitchen, wiping at her eyes and muttering teasingly about her son's propensity for girly , he just shook his head at her back.

That night they went out to celebrate at a popular bar just out of town, Winona whooping the whole way there from her seat on Jim's bike. Jim was impressed with his mother's holding her alcohol but eventually sent her home on the nearby shuttle and decided to stay just a little longer himself to enjoy the quiet evening.

Of course, his special brand of luck had to come out and play.

Not ten minutes after he had settled at the bar again, a whole crowd of rowdy Starfleet cadets came barging in the swing doors. Jim stared at them blankly and stayed in his shadowed corner seat, twirling his drink. He could never quite pin down his feelings on Starfleet beyond a nebulous, rootless dislike of authority. The resentment every Tarsus survivor felt didn't help that any more than what he saw as adults sending children to die did.

He supposed that feeling was mostly a product of Harry's influence on him. Harry's stories had not always been pleasant but they were brutally honest.

Just as he had decided to leave well enough alone and step out for the night, a gorgeous young woman in the red cadet's uniform came laughing through the doors. Looking at her was like a bit of sunshine and an icepick to the chest all at once for Jim – she could have been his cousin Dea's twin. Before he even consciously decided to, he had drifted over to her seat at the bar. Meaning only to ask her name, he later supposed he could only blame what came out of his mouth on a year's habit.

Either way, he somehow ended up flirting with her and stuck in a bar fight – the one time he  _wasn't_  looking for a confrontation.

When a piercing whistle broke things up, he thought for a moment his mother had somehow returned – she had always used that whistle to get his attention when he wandered the cornfields too late. But no, standing in the doorway was a sharp-featured grey-haired man in a Starfleet Captain's uniform.

"Outside. All of you. Now."

Jim might have laughed at how quickly the cadets cleared out if his jaw weren't aching so fiercely. Grabbing a rag and some loose ice from the bar top, he settled himself quietly at a back table to watch the stranger restore order, glad he'd shown up earlier than expected and Jim could tell Harry at least he avoided another concussion. He almost laughed out loud at the look on the man's face as the cadets filed passed him, it was so reminiscent of Harry in pissy mother hen mode.

Shaking his head and then wincing, Jim kept quiet and watched until the bar cleared out and the man spotted him at the farthest table. Jim watched him threading his way through the carnage to settle across the table and resisted the urge to comment on manners. Calling on the breathing exercises Harry had shown him after Tarsus, Jim eyed the man calmly, loosely holding the makeshift ice pack to his cheek and grinning at the raised eyebrow.

"Don't worry, I won't report the rookies if you don't." The other eyebrow went up and the man asked mildly, "You alright, son?" Jim raised his own eyebrow this time.

"Fine. I've taken much worse."

"That so? What's your name, son?"

"A Starfleet Captain that doesn't recognize me? Will wonders never cease? Here's a hint, with that whistle you must known my mother." The man frowned a little and looked him up and down slowly before his mouth twitched, "You must be James Kirk. Winona warned me about your mouth."

Jim grinned like the cat that caught the canary, "My mother's too kind. She obviously didn't warn you well enough." Jim smiled and thought how laughter suited this man. The Captain offered his hand then and Jim shook it firmly.

"Christopher Pike. Obviously, she didn't. She also didn't warn me about your talent for finding bar fights, but the bartender did. Apparently, your reputation precedes you." Jim's grin was decidedly less friendly this time, "What can I say? Mom always wanted me to give every sort of fun a chance."

"Somehow I doubt this is what she had in mind." Jim shrugged, tacit agreement, but pointed out, "I didn't start this one."

"No, but I'll bet you've started others. I've seen rookie fighters, and you aren't." Jim said nothing and Pike eyed him again, speaking slowly, "Ever thought of channeling all that energy into something productive?"

Jim smiled just as slowly, "Tried it. Got bored." He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Jim just hoped Pike could take a 'no' better than the rest of the recruiters who had eyed him like a piece of meat as soon as he came of age.

"Service in Starfleet is never boring, I can promise that."

Jim grinned, "I'm sure, but in case you've forgotten I have many more reasons to avoid Starfleet than to enlist." Jim's grin slipped away as Pike's appeared, the same sort of smile Jim felt on his own face when he knew he just talked someone into a corner.

"Maybe you do. But it seems to me, a bright young man like you has one very good reason to enlist." Pike paused, as if he were carefully considering the rest of his words and Jim waited patiently, his hand still steady on the ice and his breathing slow and rhythmic as he had been taught.

"You know you were meant for something special. Your mother's told me more about you than your mouth and it's all impressive. Your father was Captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved eight hundred lives, including your mother's and yours. I think you can do better. I dare you to do better."

Pike stood when Jim didn't respond, eyes on his bruised hand and the tiny model starship forgotten on the table, "Riverside shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves o'eight hundred tomorrow."

Pike waited another moment for any response, then turned on his heel and was gone. Jim sat at the little bar table for several minutes after, raising the toy starship in his palm and staring at it like it could answer all his questions.

_I dare you to do better._

* * *

Jim eventually made his way to the yards around two in the morning and plopped himself against the fence. Harry appeared in moments, seated beside him, and they stared up at the stars together without speaking. When Harry at last broke the silence, Jim listened quietly.

"You're thinking about it. That's good. I suppose I should have guessed that a dare would do it." Jim snorted, but tried to explain a little.

"It's not the dare—" Harry raised an eyebrow and Jim chuckled, "Well, not only. It's just, the way he looked at me when he said it – like he really thought I could do better, be better." Jim glanced at Harry sideways, "Nobody's ever believed in _me_  that way, except you and Mom. Even all the recruiters and professors over the years; they thought I could be smarter or braver, thought they could make me stronger or, or bigger somehow. I know you and Mom have made me better than I could have been, but this guy—"

His eyes stayed on the stars, and Harry's stayed on him.

"This Pike, he doesn't even know me and he really _believes_  that I can make _myself_  better. That I have it in me to become a _better person,_ not stronger or smarter or braver, but _better._ Even better than my dad." Jim finally looked at Harry, "Is it so terrible to want to believe in myself as surely as a stranger believes in me? 'Cause I don't believe right now, but this guy…he makes me want to earn it until I can. Is it so terrible to want that?"

Harry smiled that sunshine smile Jim had only seen a handful of times and wrapped an arm around Jim's broad shoulders.

"No, kid. Nothing terrible about that."


	3. Young Men

Jim had never met anybody as desperate as Leonard McCoy. He was desperate to run, desperate to stay, desperate to hide and fly and save all he could. He kind of reminded Jim of Harry, in his bad moments, or his mother on his birthday. He wondered sometimes if that was how he might have been without Harry to temper him or his mother to support him.

And maybe that was why Jim laughed when McCoy threw up on him as promised, mid-shuttle ride to San Francisco and the Starfleet Academy.

His mother had been fit to be tied when he told her he'd decided to enlist, uncertain whether to be overjoyed or petrified. Harry had just smiled and said goodbye as he always did, with a kiss to the forehead and a wish for luck. Somehow, Jim just knew Harry's 'luck' was the reason he ended up with McCoy, who was apparently both a doctor and a mother hen as bad as Harry and his mother combined.

By the end of their first month at the Academy, it felt sometimes like they were joined at the hip. Bones, as Jim took to calling him, was grumpy and bitter but he adopted Jim straightaway. Jim could only be thankful that they had few classes together after the first year, since Bones was in accelerated medical training and Jim was on command track; thus he was spared more than a year of mother henning over homework, at least.

Bones still found all sorts of things to pick at, of course, in his own weirdly affectionate way. Everything from Jim's diet to Jim's widely varied choice in bed partners was up for caustic criticism and blatantly rude concern. Jim suspected if he hadn't Harry's sarcasm and Frank's genuine malice for comparison, he might have been offended by Bones' attitude; thankfully, he had a thicker skin.

Two years passed in this manner and on Jim's twenty-fourth birthday, he met Gaila. He doubted he'd ever tell Uhura how grateful he was to her for introducing them in an attempt to spare herself his mocking attention. Gaila was probably the first woman Jim could ever say he loved, even if it wasn't the way she loved him. Later, he decided he had loved her as a precious friend, a sort of nonromantic soul mate. Harry had smiled when he heard that during Jim's Christmas visit and told Jim a new story about a strange little girl named Luna who always knew just what to say.

* * *

The Kobayashi Maru was officially the bane of Jim's existence, or so he informed Bones loudly and repeatedly until the man agreed to help him. Together they ended up researching everything there was to know about the test in an attempt to discover the loophole, any way to win – in Jim's case – and any way to shut up the kid – in Bones'.

Eventually, Jim discovered the records of Kobayashi Maru scores since its conception six years earlier and could only stare disbelievingly at a line of perfect losses down one column and passing grades right beside. Bones had long since returned to his dorm to sleep and Jim was alone in the library. Staring blankly at the page, Jim realized the test was in the loss – he wasn't a documented prodigy for nothing. He understood in a moment the intent of the test and while he understood its purpose and importance intellectually, every fiber of his being was infuriated at the implication.

It was _ridiculous_. They were teaching a bunch of young and brilliant officers to be _defeatable._ Who cared if they could accept failure or death with grace if they couldn't be bothered to reach for a win with everything they had? When did stoicism in the face of defeat become more important than victory – than pride or even hope? These _morons,_  Jim thought furiously, are teaching entire generations of intergalactic defenders to _die with honor._

Jim slammed the book shut and slipped back to his dorm in the welcome black of night, trying to restrain his mother's infamous temper. Eventually, he settled enough to doze off but he woke well before dawn the next morning with the unsettling feeling that he should be glad he couldn't remember the details of his dream.

The imagined pride on his father's face as he waited to die was bad enough.

* * *

Jim knew it was stupid. He knew hacking the Kobayashi Maru was irrational, childish, and liable to get him suspended, if not expelled.

But when he got to sit in the captain's chair, with one of his favorite sweet apples in hand and announce victory…it was worth it.

Commander Spock did not agree, Jim discovered soon enough. When the Commander descended serenely from the sea of red, in pristine instructor's blacks, Jim just knew they weren't going to get on. Thankfully, he had matured enough under the force of his mother's, Harry's, and Bones' tempers that he didn't snap when the Commander brought his father into things.

"Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?"

Hearing this cold-blooded Vulcan call his father's death essentially a _failure_  was a bit much though. For a moment Jim couldn't even breathe.

Then Pike's old defense of his father's sacrifice, of the lives he saved, sounded in Jim's head along with Harry's wistful stories about a manipulative, beloved old man who told him, "Death is but the next great adventure." Jim remembered, for a moment, looking at his little cousins on Tarsus and giving them every scrap of food he could find to the very end because he would give _anything_ if they could only live – he knew that would be a special sort of victory. And Jim felt like a fool for only a moment before the crush of understanding brought a small, sincere smile to his face and he turned just slightly to face Commander Spock.

The Commander raised an eyebrow, awaiting his response, but Jim thought he read some uncertainty in the man at last.

"And how is my father proof your test is not a cheat?"

Both eyebrows rose at the bland question. "Cadet, it is obvious that his death would be a prime example of a no-win scenario and exactly the sort of situation which command track cadets are tested for. How can you consider it otherwise?" Jim's smile never left his face and he bet he looked calmer than the Commander had thought him capable of.

"I'm alive, aren't I? My mom's alive. Eight hundred Starfleet personnel are alive." Jim leaned in the slightest bit as if he were sharing a treasured secret, and in a way, he was, "I'm pretty sure dad would call that a win."

Jim straightened, "Your test isn't a test. There is no such thing as a no-win scenario – something can always be salvaged. You're just teaching your students to accept failure. Where is the logic in that?"

The Commander stared at Jim rather like a fascinating new species he'd just discovered and then every alarm in the room went off at once.

* * *

Jim celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday on a tiny little ice planet called Delta Vega, kicking himself all the while for letting old habits get the better of his sense. He knew that impassioned arguing wouldn't get him anywhere with a man as logical as Spock and he knew much better than to fight the officers who grabbed him when they were only following orders.

The knowing didn't save him from his instinctive reactions to a cowardice so like Frank's, so like Kodos', that Jim would have happily punched Spock in the face were he still on _Enterprise._

Harry had told him, over and over again, growing up  _– we must all choose between what is right and what is easy._  Vulcan or no, Jim knew fear when he saw it. Spock was afraid, and he was making the easy choice because of that fear. Jim may have been only a cadet, but if he knew one thing about command very well it was that as a leader you had to make the  _right_  choices, however difficult they were.

Although it seemed Spock was doomed to be an odd ball, Jim decided after meeting the old Vulcan in the cave. Breathing hard, he rested his hands on his knees and stared at the old man offering him a Vulcan salute and words that sounded oddly like the old spells Harry had mentioned, which were sung rather than spoken.

_"I have been and always shall be, your friend."_

Jim had an odd thought immediately afterward about self-fulfilling prophecies and used some of Harry's favorite swears, if only in his head. He would have used some of his mother's too, but he had never got the hang of mixing and matching languages that creatively.

Only years of practice restraining his runaway mouth kept him polite, "Excuse me?"

"I am Spock."

Jim stared, but Old Spock just eyed him with the sort of patience that had always made Jim's skin crawl, even when it was Harry calling on centuries of the stuff. _Screw politeness._

"Bullshit."

* * *

Thirty minutes, a headache and a Scotty later, Jim was rapidly reprogramming ship systems to drop a very wet Scotsman on the _Enterprise_ 's deck. He couldn't help laughing at the stream of Scottish profanities that followed, even as he mentally mapped and remapped plans for Spock.

Jim found himself once more thankful for the time he took to travel all over Earth as he and Scotty were marched onto the bridge. Eyeing Spock, Jim recalled everything he'd ever learned from the half Vulcans he'd met on Earth, mostly in the North African Republic. They were a tiny group, just two dozen of them living as nomads in the eastern portion of the Sahara Desert. Jim had run into one of them by accident during one of their rare city visits and ended up traveling with them for three weeks.

He'd discovered there were two sorts of half Vulcan – those with dominant Vulcan genes, like Spock, and those with dominant human genes, like his first friend among them, Jessica.

He'd also discovered exactly how to get under a half Vulcan's skin, since, as his mother put it, "A little temper is good for people, regardless of species. Keeps the blood pumping." Now he found himself having to put that knowledge to use – and ironically, he'd found the best way to rile a Vulcan was to poke at their vaunted apathy.

"What is it with you, Spock? Hm? Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset!" Jim winced a little, mentally, not enjoying picking at a man's losses.

Spock didn't flinch, "If you are presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken."

"And yet you were the one who said that fear was necessary for command. Did you see his ship? Did you see what he did?"

Spock paused before answering and Jim sensed an opening in the same way a predator picked out the weakest prey, "…Yes, of course I did."

"So are you afraid or aren't you?"

"I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion." Good, Jim thought, choking down his conscience – he's getting angry.

"Then why don't you stop me?" Step two of Jim's patented Piss-Off a Vulcan process: get in their space. Leave them no refuge from their feelings, or your own.

"Step away from me, Mister Kirk."

"What is it like not to feel anger... or heartbreak... or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman that gave birth to you?"

"Back away from me."

"You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you! You never loved her!" and Jim _screamed_  it, for all the world as though he believed it, and he could have hated himself for the first time since joining Starfleet if Spock didn't make it clear he hated Jim more with every punch.

Jim grunted, bracing himself as best he could and recalling exactly why he'd only really riled Jessica once. He attempted a few of the little jabs and even a throw that his friends from stronger species had recommended, but Spock was truly enraged beyond all reason and Jim found himself gasping for air that didn't come very quickly. Then a surprisingly familiar voice rose above the blood pumping in his ears and Spock's sharp breaths.

"Spock—"

Jim dropped like a stone, sliding down the panels crushed beneath him to settle on the floor, choking in air as fast as he could. All the while he stared disbelieving up at Ambassador Sarek, who had visited the half Vulcan nomads for three days during Jim's stay. He barely heard Spock announcing his emotional compromise, registering just enough of the wretched tone to feel his gut wrench with both sympathy and guilt.

Most of his attention remained with Sarek, though, who only met his eyes after Spock had strode from the bridge.

Jim could breathe relatively well by then and he rose carefully to his feet, waving off Bones when he moved to help him and croaking out, "Sarek? _Spock_  is your son?" Jim knew he must look like a crazy fool at this point, but so much made sense now! Spock's attitude – the poor guy must have been the only half Vulcan on his planet, of course he had issues – and Sarek's warm welcome and special care with Earth's half Vulcans. The only Vulcan Jim had ever met and surprisingly enough, the only one who had seemed to understand why he went quiet on his birthday; Sarek had sat with him in the middle of the desert for two hours, telling him quiet, gentle stories about his son who had grown and gone.

To find that Spock was that son, Spock who Jim had just provoked to rage, Spock who had just lost his mother—

Jim choked on air once more and didn't protest when Bones came and steadied him in a fit of coughing. Jim just stared at Sarek, who met his eyes calmly and Jim couln'td keep himself from saying the name because damn it he'd never met the woman but just saying her name had made Sarek seem almost human, for a moment, before.

"Amanda," Jim breathed her name like a prayer and was glad only that everyone else kept quiet. "Oh, Sarek."

When Sarek's eyes shut very briefly, very slowly, Jim shook himself out of it and turned to Sulu. "You know Pike made me First Officer," he ignored the gasps and swearing to see Sulu's nod. "Good. Set a course for Earth and alert me when we're close." Jim let his eyes drift over everyone present and something in his face kept them quiet.

"I want status updates in five minutes. If my approval is needed for anything urgent, call me back immediately; otherwise, I'll be back then." When nobody protested, he strode quickly for the doors and Sarek. Turning to the closely following Bones, he quickly ordered, "Back to medbay, Bones." He cut off any argument with a sharp look and a sharper, "I'm fine. Go, now." He watched Bones leave, grumbling all the way, and glanced about to be sure everyone was hard at work. Then, offering a half bow in respect for Sarek's position and his loss, he motioned the man to follow.

* * *

They didn't go far. Jim led Sarek to the nearest empty conference room, thankful for all the years climbing about on this ship in the yards. As soon as the doors hissed shut, Jim offered Sarek the Vulcan salute and one of the only phrases in Vulcan he understood, "I grieve with thee."

Sarek nodded, the only outward expression of gratitude Jim knew he could offer and quietly replied, "I thank thee."

For a moment they stood in respectful silence and then Jim spoke to the air, "Computer, locate Commander Spock."

"Commander Spock is in Observation Deck C." Sarek did not inquire or comment, but Jim explained anyway, "Your son needs you now, as much as you need him. As much as I wish I could, I can't offer you the comfort he can. All I can do is give you directions and a bit of advice, if you'll take it."

"Spock is on Deck C, two floors below us, in the third room to your right." Sarek did not speak but neither did he leave, so Jim continued, "Tell him the truth, Sarek. He is much more Vulcan than human and he won't understand unless you say it. The rest of us can tell you loved Amanda just by looking, but Spock never learned what to look for and he needs to hear the truth now, from you."

Jim stepped aside and pressed for the doors to open. Raising his hand, he spoke, "Peace and long life."

Solemnly, Sarek mimicked him before striding out the door and down the hall –

"Live long and prosper."

* * *

Jim stood quietly for a minute after Sarek left and then spoke softly to the air, "Harry, I need you."

And Harry was there, stood before him as reliable as ever and Jim choked on something that might have been a sob as he stepped into Harry's open arms.

"It's a mess, Harry. It's all a mess and I'm supposed to fix it." Harry pushed him back just enough so he could catch Jim's eyes, "Then that is what you'll do." Harry brought him close once more and Jim clutched him like a child, needing Harry's belief in him as much as he had after Tarsus, after Frank.

Harry crooned into his hair, gently, "Don't be afraid, kiddo. Even if I can't show myself on the bridge, you know on this ship I'm always right there with you. And if you really need me, you know I'll be there no matter what it takes."

Jim sighed out the tension that had been building up, letting his faith in Harry and Harry's faith in him be his foundation. Stepping back, he straightened up and figured his five minutes was up. Harry said nothing, simply smiling as he vanished into the air.

* * *

On the bridge, Jim was welcomed with a sharp, "Captain," and quickly herded to Uhura's station. She efficiently updated him on the situation with communications and summarized the reports from medical, security, and engineering, concluding with a recommendation to speak to Scotty himself for a full update on the ship's state. Jim took it all in as he had been trained and suggested a few adjustments to the current systems to best divert power to her station and the medbay, which Uhura agreed to even as she gave him the stink eye and muttered as he moved away, "You better know what you're doing."

Jim didn't answer mostly because he hoped so, too. When he settled in the Captain's chair, Sulu spoke up, "Captain, ten minutes to Earth." Jim nodded and considered whether that was enough time to make it down to Engineering to get an update from Scotty in person – but no, he couldn't risk it. Tapping the relevant panel on his chair, Jim opened a line to Engineering and sent an Ensign to fetch Scotty, as Jim shook his head over the swearing that echoed down the link from what seemed like every direction.

Scotty's face quickly appeared on the tiny screen, panting and flushed with a few small burns to one cheek, "Yeah, Cap'n?"

"Give me your best summary of her state, Scotty. The worst of it first." Scotty's face was graver than Jim would have liked and his news was equally uninspiring. They were taking twice as long to make the trip back to Earth as to Vulcan and the engines were doing double-time to manage even that. They'd essentially lost the bottom level of the cargo hold and what was left opened onto vacuum. Thankfully, most of the supplies had come through, but their shields and communications systems suffered serious damage in the first, unexpected attack.

It was still much better news than Jim had hoped for. The shields had never actually fallen before Pike opened negotiations and the cargo hold had been luck on the Romulan's part, as one of their secondary shots had managed to slip through when the shield's flickered under the initial onslaught.

"Alright, Scotty, Cadet Uhura-" Jim didn't bother to raise his voice, he knew just how good her hearing was, "-is sending you my suggestions now. Take them into account or don't, but either way I need you to get as much power as you can to shields, with communications as your second priority."

The engineer was already skimming a data pad in front of him, looking thoughtful and vaguely impressed, "Aye, Cap'n, you've got some ideas here I can use. I'll see what all I can do and update you when I've done."

They cut the comm. link without further discussion and Jim's attention was quickly grabbed by the other department heads on the bridge, all wanting to update him in person. Shaking his head, Jim firmly nipped this in the bud, "Cadet Uhura has updated me on all vital portions of your reports. Thank you for your enthusiasm and prompt work, but right now we need to focus on the _Narada_." Looking a little deflated, those cadets on the bridge returned meekly to their seats with the vaguely embarrassed veterans a step behind.

Jim didn't miss Uhura's surprised glance at his underhanded compliment, but he didn't let it distract him. If Tarsus had taught him one thing about leadership, it was the importance of keeping people focused on the things they _could_  do.

Checking ship's time and opening the shipwide comm. link, Jim spoke, "This is Acting Captain Jim Kirk. For those of you who missed it, Captain Pike made me First Officer and Commander Spock felt the need to step down. That means I'm in command and we are now five minutes from exiting warp above Earth. There we will likely engage the enemy immediately in defense of the planet. I need everyone to battle stations, check-ins will be in three minutes."

He paused, knowing this was where he should say something fierce or heroic, but all he could think was, "Do your best, people. She's all we've got left." And 'she' could have been Earth, or could have been their best, or could have been Starfleet. But when he said it, Jim found the only 'she' in his thoughts was Amanda Grayson.

* * *

Spock's return to the bridge just in time to iron out a plan of attack was unexpected, but welcome. For a moment when Jim first saw him, he felt Harry's hand on his shoulder, and for the second time in his life he saw an aura that normally went unseen – and he sent wordless thanks to Harry at the sight of Spock's much lightened spirit because he knew that could only have happened if Sarek took his advice.

Spock of all people had to understand that whatever his opinion of other emotions, love was never wrong.

Jim shook himself out of the maudlin thoughts just in time to hear Spock declare his intention to beam aboard the  _Narada_  alone. Jim would never let any member of his crew – and wasn't he getting ahead of himself thinking so possessively – handle this without back-up, let alone an unstable half-Vulcan with excellent cause to take bloody and senseless vengeance. However, he knew Spock not only could, but would, argue his way out of any company not equally stubborn.

"I'm sure you already have an argument prepared if I say no, so fine. I'm coming with you." Jim wasn't sure if Spock looked so taken aback because of his lack of argument or his decision to accompany a man he seemed to hate, but he almost laughed when Spock finally responded.

"I would cite regulation, but I know you would simply ignore it."

"See, we are getting to know each other," Jim grinned, sharp and predatory, carefully resisting the urge to slap Spock's back as he would Bones'. Three weeks in close quarters with even human-dominant half-Vulcans had taught Jim the pitfalls of touch telepathy.

And, he could admit, surprising Spock into raising that eyebrow could become a great hobby.


	4. Maturing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, sorry for the wait. And sorry it's rough, I'll fix it up in the morning. This is the last chapter, just an epilogue to go!

Jim had participated in more than his fair share of PDAs, but watching Spock and Uhura make out like desperate teenagers not even a foot away, he could admit this was a whole new level of awkward. Not least of all because his thoughts had set on loop, semi-hysterically wondering when the hell that happened and why no one informed him.

He watched Uhura walk away then and tried not to twitch too noticeably until he just couldn't resist—

"So, her first name is Nyota?"

"I have no comment on the matter." Shut down, Jim mentally winced, grateful to Scotty when he broke in with their final instructions and a firm, "Energize."

* * *

After years of surveying nearly every person he met, Jim felt it was safe to say he could blame Harry for the weird awareness he felt in particle transport. As far as he'd learned, nobody else – even paranoid Bones – actually _felt_ their molecules being taken apart and reformed. When he'd mentioned it to Harry, his friend laughingly apologized, "It seems I passed you a bit more than my unfortunate luck, Jim. I was always sensitive to unnatural transportation."

Jim didn't have more than a moment to get past the disorientation before he and Spock were moving, shots flying left and right, and guttural Romulan vowels singing behind phaser blasts. Jim almost wished he couldn't understand them, though he had to applaud their creativity as he jumped and dodged through the cavernous room. Spock and he eventually came to a sheltered spot and knelt to take cover as best they could while firing back. Eventually, the room quieted and they began leapfrogging around each other and various structures for cover.

At the sight of an unconscious Romulan nearby, Jim waved Spock forward and was a little amazed when the half-Vulcan seemed to understand what was wanted without any further instruction. Maybe there was something to Old Spock's prophecies after all, Jim thought, as he watched this Spock meld with the Romulan.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Jim moved to crouch at Spock's side and asked, "Do you know where it is? The black hole device?" He mentally berated himself for interrupting after Harry's frequent admonitions about the difficulties of mind reading – which was a misnomer because the mind was not a book to be read, as Harry had often corrected him.

But Spock did not seem to mind the interruption, raising his head and replying, "And Captain Pike." Jim followed as Spock led them down two floors and far to the right, through more corridors than Jim could count and wide open spaces which made him think uncomfortably of Harry's tales of expansion charms gone wrong. Shaking the thoughts away, Jim forced himself into the sort of single-minded focus that allowed him to disregard all but the mission before him.

They arrived at the black hole device first.

Up a small ship's ramp, they encountered walls covered in unfamiliar technology and contained in the center: the red matter. Jim carefully laughed off Spock's suspicion when the ship recognized him, until the half-Vulcan confronted him with rather less rancor than Jim expected, "It appears that you have been keeping important information from me."

"You'll be able to fly this thing, right?"

"Something tells me I already have."

Jim eyed him, and perhaps because Spock did not look accusing but rather resigned, he gave him some answer, " _A_  you has. Good luck." Jim wondered only a moment as he stepped away whether he had said too much, but he'd like to think Harry knew a fair bit more about time travel than an old half-Vulcan and he was certain Harry had said nothing about hints being illegal.

Spock stopped him before he reached the exit and Jim wondered only a moment that his name sounded so familiar in that voice.

"Jim, the statistical likelihood that our plan will succeed is less than—" Jim really didn't need to know those odds. He had learned well how important faith was to prophecy and hell if this wasn't starting to feel like fate. He hoped that certainty came across when he cut Spock off, "It'll work."

Spock overrode him, though, as if he hadn't heard, "In the event that I am unsuccessful, please tell Lieutenant Uhura—" Jim didn't feel bad about interrupting this time, sensing weakness in Spock where he would need only strength.

" _Spock_ ," that tone was entirely his mother, Jim thought ruefully, "It'll work." And Jim felt, for a moment, they really had that connection Old Spock talked about because damn if it didn't look like Spock at least had faith in him.

* * *

Pike was dead. Jim could think of nothing else for a moment, the thought circling and growing somehow louder and fainter in his head as he clutched the man's shoulders and desperately willed him to breathe. Jim had seen a lot of death in his time, but this – this wasn't _right_ , he could feel it in his bones, in that weird energy that bound him even in transport – _this was not how their story ended_. His hands weren't even shaking, Jim thought distantly, with the feeling of wrongness and shock still settling on him.

Then there was a thrum in his aching bones and the words came to him like old power, like the old spells he'd always heard of, though he hoped his hoarse, abused vocal chords didn't affect anything – _"Harry, I need you."_ And between one blink and the next, Harry was there, as real as Jim had ever seen him, haloed in a distant aura although Jim considered that might just be his concussion.

Harry smiled, as always as if he knew everything Jim was thinking, "Told you I'd be here, kid. It's a stretch, but you're helping even if I don't understand how." Then all of Harry's attention turned to Pike and his mouth took a grim downturn. Jim swallowed convulsively but held his peace, one eye on Harry, who twisted a ring Jim had never seen before three times and then lay his hand on Pike's cheek, and the other eye on the hall in case they had any more unwanted guests.

As Jim watched, Harry shut his eyes and the ring began to glow without light, or such was the only way Jim could describe it. The aura of timeless power that Harry usually held in check nearly took his breath away and Jim abruptly focused entirely on Pike as the glow seemed to blanket him in an invisible cloak and the dead man took a breath.

Pike blinked once, twice, and then opened his eyes wide to stare up at Harry. Jim had a feeling they didn't see the same thing at all.

Pike sounded even worse than Jim himself, but managed to speak, "What are you doing here?" Jim stepped quickly into Harry's place as his apparition vanished.

"Just following orders, sir." And Jim smiled and ignored Pike's sudden daze as what Jim suspected to be a memory charm took hold. That only made his shots a second later more impressive, in Jim's book.

* * *

Their return to  _Enterprise_  was both more and less dramatic than Jim expected. He could get used to Spock's presence, though, Jim thought absently, as they seemed to fall into sync without consideration, Spock half a step back to his right as Bones took over with Pike and Uhura followed close behind them. The doors to the bridge hissed open in minutes and Jim focused once more on the _Narada._

Chekov spoke up, "Captain, the enemy ship is losing power, their shields are down, sir."

Jim didn't blink, "Hail them now." As the _Narada_  began slowly withdrawing into the red matter's black hole, Nero's face appeared on the flickering screen, alarms blaring through the background.

"This is Captain James T Kirk of the USS Enterprise," and damn, but that felt good to say, Jim thought, as a phantom hand gripped his shoulder. "Your ship is compromised. You're too close to the singularity to survive without assistance, which we are willing to offer." The hand squeezed and Jim could almost ignore all the eyes on him. Whether they accused him of heartlessness with their surprise or stupidity with their disapproval, he couldn't care. He knew what was right.

Spock's turn at his side did catch his attention, though, and Jim knew he couldn't yet speak his thoughts to this man, who, however brave he had proved himself, had still risked Jim's home with his easy choices.

"Captain, what are you doing?"

Jim mentally sighed and breathed out bullshit, "Showing them compassion. It may be the only way to make peace with the Romulan Empire. It's logic, Spock, thought you'd like that." Bullshit or not, Spock's expression almost drew a laugh from him.

"No, not really. Not this time."

Nero cut in then and it no longer mattered—"I would rather suffer the end of Romulus a thousand times. I would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you." Jim grinned ruthlessly as a barely tangible head banged repeatedly against his spine, "You got it."

He turned and the presence vanished. "Arm phasers, fire everything we've got."

Had he known what a pain escaping would be after, Jim considered he still might have taken potshots at this particular Romulan. Hitting them while they were down, until they never got back up – that one he learned from his mother. He had the oddest thought that Sarek's Amanda might have approved.

* * *

When they were finally floating free in the black, damaged and limping forlornly home, alpha shift at last on a break, Jim sat back for just a moment to savor this victory. When the doors to his temporary quarters  _hiss_ ed open, he was unsurprised to see Spock and Sarek.

Ignoring the younger for the time being, Jim offered Sarek his bowed head in respect and the Vulcan salute. He adjusted the ritual words to the occasion, though.

"You will live long and prosper for her." It was not a question and Jim saw in those dark eyes that Sarek understood. This was the only way Jim could repay him for his presence and his comfort on those rough days during his stay in the North African deserts. Sarek was the first and only person Jim had ever told about his little joyriding experiment, when the man caught him at a very bad moment on one of his worst birthdays to date. The man's silence had pried the truth out of him and Jim found he could not be upset with speaking his mind to this man any more than he could mind Harry's reading him and knowing without the need for telling.

Spock's human eyes were very wide. Sarek only nodded and returned the salute with his own quiet instruction, "I cannot help him with this. You will."

Jim sat back a moment, considered without any doubt that he would obey, and decided on the only proper response he knew. Crossing both arms over his chest, palms fisted at his shoulder, he murmured the only phrase in Old Romulan his uncle Tammor knew, from a ritual the man's people had carried through the mists of time to signify the highest respect and the repayment of all debt. The nearest translation he'd found was, _"We balance the scales,"_ but he still didn't understand all the connotations for that Old Romulan word for _'balance'_  which could also mean _'heighten'_ or _'burn'._ For one day a year, it even meant _'silence,'_  which Jim thought rather fitting.

Sarek took it for the dismissal it was and left as silently as he came. Spock remained standing, rigid and uncertain, and Jim considered the scuffed floor beneath his boots as he wished he could call on Harry for this one.

Eventually, Jim looked very slowly to Spock and carefully did not speak of a car falling into a quarry with a little boy inside anymore than he mentioned a grieving man setting his ship on a suicidal collision course with no thought of rescue. Suicide was an emotional response and Sarek was right to bring this to a human – Vulcans had never understood this sort of sacrifice.

Into Spock's silence, Jim spoke at last, of a human boy hero who became a human boy soldier who became the Master of Death…by dying. He spoke of the grief that struck this boy when he realized all he had lost and the deal he made with a servant who could never be mastered, that he would never lose again – not his heart, not his friends, not his family. By his deal, even in death they would never be parted from his immortal soul. At long last, Jim spoke of an angel who took his dearly departed with him wherever he would go and who was sent to sleep for twelve hundred years by the last friend he had alive, who could not bear to see him outlive her, too.

When Jim was quiet, Spock spoke and there was nothing changed in his voice, but he was no longer tall and rigid but loose and absorbed; and truly, none could be touched by such as Harry so many times as Jim without picking up some sensitivity to auras. Spock's was lighter than Jim had ever known it.

"How do you know my father?"

Jim smiled, "For a day, he was my father, too."

Spock did not look amused at this cryptic response but did not comment, just asked one more question. Perfectly mimicking Jim's prior actions, from the fists at his shoulders to the Old Romulan word for _'balance'_  and _'burn,'_  Spock bowed.

"What is this?"

Jim felt his smile widen at the gesture, though Spock had no idea of what he had just offered.

"It is Old Romulan, a gesture of highest respect that marks the repayment of all debt between the involved parties." Spock was still and then nodded once, not even looking offended when Jim finally laughed.

* * *

The commencement was probably the best day of Jim's life, except for the day he met Harry. He was a Captain. James Tiberius Kirk was a Starfleet Captain and not just any captain; he was the Captain of the flagship, the  _Enterprise._

"I relieve you, sir."

As Pike smiled up at him, Jim felt for a moment as if Harry was all around him, hugging him close to the universe. The thought let his smile widen as Pike replied, "I am relieved."


	5. Epilogue: Old Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is complete. I hope I've answered most of your questions about the hows and whys of this fic and PLEASE let me know if there are any outtakes you want to see, whether pre-Harry, during Jim's travels, during the five-year mission, or in answer to a question you had that I didn't explain here. I'd really love to write more for this verse, so if you ask for it, it will probably happen. In the meantime - thanks for being amazing, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the ride and, Abby, I hope this is what you wanted. :)

Their first five year mission was nearly at an end and Jim couldn't stop smiling, watching his crew _– his crew_  – laughing and crying and, in the case of Bones, getting roaring drunk. They hadn't all made it, of course, but Jim was selfishly grateful that of their losses, none were his close personal friends or bridge crew.

His grin widened as a tipsy Uhura planted a very indiscreet kiss on his First Officer in plain view of the whole room – she was going to regret that in the morning, but Jim knew no one on his crew was going to spout fraternization policies or report the Lieutenant. After all, it would take a particularly heartless creature to get in the way of his doubtless soon-to-be engaged and beaming Communications Officer or her blushing beau. Sipping from whatever wonderful alcoholic drink Scotty had handed him as soon as he entered the mess hall, Jim's gaze shifted to Bones, who had holed himself up in a shadowed corner with a bottle of Romulan ale, the latest recording from his baby girl and a sappy smile.

Scotty soon barged into the picture, pressing some of his engine hooch onto the good doctor before being tugged away by Chekov who was babbling in a Russian-Standard pidgin about modifications for his console that could be handled during their extended break. Jim followed the duo with his eyes and winked at his pilot as they settled in a huddle around Sulu, laughing.

His crew was alive and healthy and happy and the only thing that could have made Jim's night better as the hours passed and the hall emptied of all but his closest friends was—Jim grinned. A barely tangible hug wrapped around him and he thought questioningly at the shimmering aura that was Harry as it surrounded him. A hesitation and then gleeful affirmative were all the answer Jim needed as he brought his fingers to his lips and let his mother's beloved whistle shatter the murmur of conversation and giggling.

All his crew turned to him with varying degrees of exasperation and he beamed at them, ducking as Bones let the nearest party hat fly toward his face.

"Damn it, Jim! Are you trying to make us all deaf before we're thirty—" "But I thought you were already thirty-eight, Bones, don't tell me you lied about your birthday again!" Bones threw his hands in the air and everyone laughed, louder or softer dependent on how much of Scotty's hooch they'd enjoyed. Jim motioned them all in and felt his grin widen as they obeyed unquestioningly, Scotty and his cohorts settling directly in front, Bones close at his right, and the happy couple with eyebrows raised at his left.

Opening his mouth, he paused and earned more raised eyebrows from all sides, realizing he'd never actually explained Harry or even considered _how_ to explain him. Ignoring the eyebrows, Jim finally shrugged and tilted his head back, seemingly speaking to the air, "Harry, I need you."

And Harry was there, Harry was always there and a small, warm smile filled Jim up like light, like the smile Harry had just for him.

"Took you long enough, kiddo." Jim pouted and Harry laughed as his crew stared.

Jim drew a breath, "Everyone, this is Harry. Harry Potter. He's, well, it's a bit hard to explain but he's like my—" Harry grinned, "I'm his guardian angel." And Jim laughed _hard_. "Angels don't do what you have, Harry, and they certainly wouldn't be the proud son of three Marauders." Harry shrugged unapologetically and his smile softened for the gaping men and women around them.

"My name is Harry, but you might know me better as _Enterprise_." Harry finally explained and that absolutely did not help with the staring, Jim noticed with a snort.

Waving everyone's attention back to him, he offered, "Let me tell you an old story." And Bones grunted, shifting to a more comfortable position, as the others settled in quietly to listen to their Captain share another of his surprising secrets.

"Once upon a time, magic was real." For the wide eyes and caught breaths about him, Jim smiled and told the story of a truly magical world and the three brothers that once lived there, of a school called Hogwarts for witches and wizards, and a war like nothing they could even imagine where the Dark and Light weren't just ideals, but people, children trying to defend their families and the magic they loved so well. He explained how three special artifacts came together under one particular child and made him immortal, much against his will.

Engrossed, no one questioned him as Jim spoke of unbearable grief and a boy who never aged even as his family did, so he explained how the boy made a deal to keep his family with him always.

Harry cut in then with that bright, bright smile Jim had only seen a handful of times and suddenly his aura was visible to even these untouched mortals. Jim watched their awe and let it grow with his own, for he had never become accustomed to this beauty, to this sort of power and greatness and he never wanted to. Then Harry winked at him and Jim got a surprise for the first time that night as Harry's vividly brilliant aura was suddenly a mass of ghostly figures.

Jim recognized enough of them at once that it almost brought him to tears. There was the Weasley red hair and mischievous grins, there were a stag and a Grim and a wolf romping through the glow, and all around them, under them was a field of untouched lilies where shrieking children with messy black hair and two women, a pink-haired metamorphmagus with her baby and a scraggly blonde haired girl who stared up at the sky, whispered about the universe's secrets for a bearded old headmaster and a sneering bat of a man.

Jim spoke for his crew's benefit, then, "It was too much for one person, even one so special as he was to hold all those souls in a mortal body. So he left the body and the vastness that he had become settled into every stone and stairway in Hogwarts – the building was his new body, their new body. Until one day the last living friend and the school's Headmistress found that the school was going to be torn down and modernized. She could not bear the thought of her friend suffering, so she called on a very old magic that loosed his spirits from Hogwarts to drift, deeply asleep for two hundred years, on the currents of the Earth's magic. When he woke at last, he had only moments to find a new structure to settle in and the only thing strong enough and large enough close by was the half-finished _Enterprise_. Its structure gave him form and stability but contained him, tying him to the life of the ship for as long as it would exist."

Harry broke in then, smiling just for Jim as he concluded, "It was a very boring existence until one day the _Enterprise_  made a friend."


End file.
